The Larry Kornegay and Bill Timmerman exhibition at Modified, on view from October 16 through November 14, offers two individual, abstract interpretations of an artist’s experience with physical space, documentation, and ambiguity. Larry Kornegay’s sculptures and Bill Timmerman’s photographs participate in a dynamic push and pull conversation occurring across the gallery space.

Kornegay’s mixed-media sculptures are much more confrontational than Timmerman’s photographs, with evocative words like “I Hurt, Get Over It” inserted into plywood and found objects. He poses a challenge to the viewer to decipher his work’s meaning with descriptive titles of abstract constructions. Timmerman, meanwhile, provides the viewer with his documented account of a trip to Houston. However, his account is not your typical tourist one of selfies and group portraits. The human presence is largely absent in his Houston scenes and even when he does capture people in museum galleries or in between staircases in an art building, the lightning and framing captures isolated encounters with the making and viewing of art.

The exhibition is set up with rows of Timmerman’s 4 x 6 inch photographic prints attached to the walls, interrupted here and there by Kornegay’s relief sculptures. The black and white photographs and the small relief sculptures are finely balanced; however, in the case of the sculpture Snake, there is too much of an abrupt interruption in the viewing of the contemplative photographic scenes. With its organic forms and blue text, Snake is a great departure from the geometric composition and minimalistic abstraction of Timmerman’s subtle photography.

Snake could function as a welcoming, unexpected surprise when the viewer transitions from one photograph to the next; however, Snake would have fared better if it had been displayed with one of Kornegay’s prominent standalone sculptures, such as Blonde Bombshell, which easily draws one’s attention as one enters the gallery. Its title cleverly refers to the bomb-like form created by the repetition of golden wire hangers, mimicking the repetition of the displayed 4 x 6 photographs.

Kornegay’s standalone sculptures are tactfully placed in each of the three separate photography-sculpture groupings throughout the gallery. The decision to display both mediums together rather than separate is significant, for it emphasizes the collaborative nature of photographic documentation pertaining to sculptural form. Timmerman photographed several sculptural and architectural works, such as Barnett Newman’s Broken Obelisk and the James Turrell Skyspace.

Timmerman manages to reinterpret the three dimensional form into a two dimensional study of sophisticated light and shadows without losing the form’s inherent materiality. In the photograph titled Barnett Newman, Broken Obelisk, the obelisk’s geometry is accentuated through the juxtaposition of light and dark outlining its triangular form. This rigid geometry is contrasted with the free flowing branches located on the periphery of the image’s composition.

The contrast of the organic and the geometric can be seen in the relationship of Kornegay’s sculptures with Timmerman’s photographs. Kornegay utilizes organic form much more than Timmerman; moreover, he imbues his work with human presence, like in his sculptures Rich Folk, Poor Folk and Gary, Booger, and The Kids, which are situated in the same section as the Barnett Newman, Broken Obelisk photograph. With the sculptures next to it, the photograph conveys the historical process of documenting sculpture through the medium of photography.

In displaying the two artists’ works together, the exhibition not only speaks to the friendship between the two Arizona artists but also to the added layers of meaning each artwork acquires when displayed next to each other. This play on meaning and materials in which the artworks engage provides a refreshing view on the pairing of photography and sculpture.